Incarnate Word Table Talk

Thursday, February 15, 2018

The
ultimate test of a moral society is the kind of world that it leaves to its
children.

~Dietrich
Bonhoeffer

In the wake of yet another mass shooting, I’ve heard many
folks of good faith saying that we need to have a “national conversation”
concerning the proliferation of guns – specifically the easy availability of assault
rifles in our country.Conversations are
all well and good, but we need to know with whom to have these
conversations.

With the help of the Center for Responsive Politics and
figures provided by the Federal Election Commission as of May 16, 2017, I’ve
put together a list of elected leaders on both sides of the political aisle who
received campaign contributions indirectly from the National Rifle Association
through PACs, their individual members, or employees or owners, and those
individuals’ immediate families.

Perhaps our conversations should start here with phone calls
and handwritten letters to those elected to represent us saying we’ve had
enough; saying that what we do to the least of these, we do to Christ;We can have all the conversations we want,
but until elected officials hear from us, our conversations are in vain.How many more children have to die by assault
rifles before we take our “thoughts and prayers” and put them into actions and
policies?

By the way, the monies listed below do not include the
millions of dollars spent by the NRA to defeat those who advocate for
background checks and the outlawing of military grade assault weapons.According to the Center for Responsive
Politics, since 1990 Political Action Committees associated with the National
Rifle Association have given over $20 million to political campaigns of both
parties.This is madness; and it has to
stop.As people of faith we must take a
stand.How can we do anything less?

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

One of my
“beefs” about the season of Lent, is how often we get it wrong.Without fail I hear the same Lenten
conversations year after year.Maybe
you’ve heard them too.

“this year for Lent, I’m giving up…”

Or, “this year for Lent, I’m taking on…”

For years,
we have gotten Lent wrong because of this emphasis on “me”.Certainly, each of us are personally invited
to enter into the season of Lent and into its disciplines: “Self-Examination, repentance, prayer,
fasting, sacrificial giving and works of love.”And that is all good and that is how it
should be.

Truly each
of us in this season of Lent are exhorted to enter more deeply into the promise
of Christ’s embrace as he passes over from death to life with each of us.

But all too
often, “self-examination” ends there in the personal space called “me.”All too often, our Lenten story becomes an
autobiography about Jesus and me neglecting the public reality of Jesus and community.

Now don’t
get me wrong:I admire each and every
one of you for being here this evening when clearly you could be home reading a
good book, watching the Olympics, or binge watching on Netflix.But here you are in this place beginning yet
again on a journey, marked not by ease and self-fulfillment, but by a cross and
selfless servanthood.

Here you are
tonight standing face to face with the harsh reality that each of us is broken
– publicly confessing our sin – confessing that we have not loved God with our
whole heart or our neighbor as ourselves.

Here you are
tonight standing face to face with the harsh reality that each of us “are dust
and to dust we shall return” as dirty, dusty ashes anoint our foreheads;
acknowledging the fragility of life.If
we don’t believe we are dust, just look at the latest mass shooting that
claimed at least 17 victims in a South Florida high school today.

And yet, for
all that we do here tonight, this evening’s Ash Wednesday liturgy is not simply
about us.It is not simply about Jesus
with us.It is more than that:Much, much more than that.If the prophet Isaiah has anything to say
about our service this evening, he would tell us that unless love and care for
the poor and vulnerable emerges from tonight’s service, then our time together
this night has simply been a waste of time.

Tonight, we
catch Isaiah at his prophetic best, as he confronts a society that is content
with not only neglecting the poor and needy, but literally oppressing them,
living by the mantra of “make Jerusalem
great again.”

Who after
all has time to loose the bonds of injustice, to let the oppressed go free, or
to share their bread with the hungry?Not us, we’re too busy building walls to protect us from change and to
preserve the way things used to be in the good old days.

But if
scripture is clear on nothing else:It
is that God’s very heart is with the widow and the orphan.God’s very heart is poured out in love for
all on the hardwood of a cross.

In this
season of Lent as we journey from this night to the cross of Good Friday and
the empty tomb of Easter morning, may we do so not alone isolated from the
world around us.But with Christ – God’s
heart.And on this life changing journey
may we walk with God’s heart; may we be God’s heart in this place and in all
the world.

Thursday, February 8, 2018

Mark 9:2-9 (Transfiguration of Our Lord)

Daily I find myself wandering through our beautiful
sanctuary, marveling at the stained-glass windows that depict God’s handiwork
in the universe.My favorite window is
the one I call the “NASA window” in which a Gemini spacecraft is depicted
alongside orbiting electrons, protons, and neutrons bearing witness to the
reality of God’s presence not only in the heavens, but specifically in
science.Whether it be God the scientist
or God the Word made flesh, each window reveals a bit of God’s identity.And yet as beautiful and as inspiring as each
of these windows are, they do not tell the whole story.It’s hard to imagine, but God’s amazing love
story with humanity and all of creation goes far beyond the images contained in
these windows.

As these windows cannot begin to tell the entirety of God’s
story, neither does the transformative event in the gospel reading for this
coming Sunday.I can only imagine how
beautiful it must have felt atop that mountain where in God’s presence, Jesus
was bathed in glorious light, hanging out with the greats: Moses and Elijah,
being affirmed as God’s beloved son.Had
I been there with Peter, James, and John, I too would have wanted to capture
the glorious moment; I too would have wanted to build the biggest damn booth
possible.Who wouldn’t want to remain
in such a holy place commemorating such a holy event?It’s not everyday that Moses, Elijah, and
Jesus show up to the party.

But Jesus doesn’t stay there in that glorious place. Instead
he goes back down the mountain; back down into the darkest of valleys; into the
broken lives of those below – healing, teaching, and feeding.– calling us to follow.And so we follow; not remaining in our
glorious sanctuary, but down we come and out we go into the streets of our
city; into the lives of those who feel hopeless, broken and disconnected;
proclaiming in word and deed that God’s love story with all creation is alive
and well.

The windows in our sanctuary cannot tell the whole story of
God because they do not contain an image of you reaching out in love to family,
friends, or maybe even strangers.There’s no window showing the homeless being fed at Mustard Seed
Kitchen, or being housed four weeks out of the year in our Sunday School space.There’s no window depicting you feeding the
hungry at REACH House or speaking out on behalf of the most vulnerable among us
at City Hall or at the County Legislature.There’s no window of you helping the chronically homeless find permanent
housing through the Homeless Initiative.It is only when the windows of our sanctuary combine with the windows of
your life in Christ that we begin to catch a glimpse of God’s entire love story
for humanity.

Fed and nourished each week at the foot of the cross, you
and I are God’s windows in the world, revealing and proclaiming a God whose
love knows no boundaries; revealing and proclaiming a God who will not be
limited by the walls of this world and the hatred that builds them.

We have a different story to tell than the power brokers of
our world.For our story is God’s story;
a story of love that is limitless, reckless, and above all, abundant.Join us on Sunday as we are once again fed on
the mountaintop - to feed the world.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Follow me, and I will
make you fish for people (Mark 1:17).

“Follow me.” One of the very first directives uttered by Jesus
in Mark’s gospel. Though I love a good
Christmas birth story, adorned with angels, shepherds, and a babe wrapped in
swaddling cloths, Mark doesn’t give us that.
For Mark, there’s no time for those details. The babe wrapped in swaddling cloths has a
job to do. To proclaim the arrival of
God’s Kingdom, and to duke it out with the powers-that-be; the institutions
that would stand in God’s way.

What strikes me in this Sunday’s gospel reading is the
urgency of Jesus’ message. Without even
taking a breath, Jesus’ call to repentance is followed by the call to follow. In the six verses found in this Sunday’s
gospel, Jesus has seditiously announced the presence of God’s Kingdom over and
against that of Caesar, and called four lowly, off-the-radar, fishermen to
follow him.

Jesus’ message and actions are urgent; there’s no time to
create lists; no time for committees to be formed; no time for mission
statements to be drafted; no time to give 2 weeks’ notice to the boss. The Kingdom
of God train has pulled into the station and it’s time to climb aboard.

Now more than ever we need to hear this sense of God’s
urgency and be challenged by its implications. It is this Kingdom of God urgency
that challenges us to take on Caesar; to speak out in the face of injustice; to
not be moderate or neutral on issues of inequity or the dehumanization of those
less powerful; to not be silent when families are torn apart by cruel and unjust
immigration policies; to not turn the other way when women are routinely harassed
by powerful men who are nothing more than disgusting sexual predators; to not
turn a blind eye when the President of the most powerful nation on the planet
blatantly reveals his racist bias by degrading with vulgar language black and
brown people and their countries of origin.

In all of this, where is the church’s Kingdom of God voice? Where is our Kingdom of God urgency to right
what is clearly wrong? Now more than
ever, Martin Luther King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail is calling out
to us. These urgent words penned 54 years
ago to an inactive church are as applicable to us now as they were then.

With prophetic courage and urgency, Dr. King wrote,

“So often the contemporary
church is a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. So often it is an archdefender of the status quo. Far from
being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the
average community is consoled by the church’s silent – and often even vocal –
sanction of things as they are.”

He goes on to write, “If
today’s church does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church,
it will lose its authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be
dismissed as an irrelevant social club…”

As your pastor, I can assure you of this: I will not be an activities director of a social
club. I am a pastor; I am your pastor
and as such I will continue to seek ways in which we as a community of faith –
a Kingdom of God community – can discern God’s will, witness God’s love, while
following his Son to a Jerusalem Cross and beyond. If that means calling out powerful abusers
then so be it. If it means protecting
the powerless, Harriet Tubman style, then so be it.

We follow Christ, and no one else, therefore
we cannot keep silent. Following Christ,
with voices raised and hands outstretched we will change the world.

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

Just a few days ago we gathered in worship around the
glorious story of shepherds and angels; “a
poor lowly stable ”; and a young couple with their newborn baby “wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a
manger.” Our joy could hardly be
contained as we loudly sang “O Come All Ye Faithful” or in hushed tones with
candles in hand sang of a “Silent night”, where all is “calm” and “bright.” As the days of Christmas have progressed, the
three magi figurines have been making their way across our sanctuary chancel to
take their place at the Nativity scene on Epiphany. As they do, we will hear a very different
Christmas story.

This coming Sunday we will hear that God’s good news of
great joy is not good news to everyone; especially by those in positions of
power. We will hear of an earthly king
who in his narcissistic paranoia is so threatened by the birth announcement of
another king, that he desperately seeks out this newborn in order to kill
him. This is certainly not a story told
in any Christmas pageants I’ve ever seen.
And yet it is a critical part of our story. We know that for his whole life, this newborn
king will be a marked man, one day being tortured and killed on a cross for
bearing witness to God’s Kingdom over and against those of Herod and Caesar;
what the biblical scholar Raymond Brown refers to as “An Adult Christ at
Christmas.”

I’m not completely sure where my sermon is going on
Sunday. I’m intrigued by the
juxtaposition of outsider magi, who get what God is doing, to insider religious
folk who do not.

I also can’t help but wonder who the Herods and Caesars of
this world are and what the church’s voice could and should be in the midst of
it all. Am I a religious insider who
thinks I’ve got God all figured out and am therefore closed to God’s new
revelations? Am I one who craves my own
power, desiring that my will be done over and against that of God? It’s way too easy for me to point to powerful
world leaders and assign Herod’s name to them; though there may be some wisdom
in that. But am I just as capable of
seeking to eliminate anything or anyone that I perceive is a threat to my White,
male power?

Toward the end of Matthew’s gospel, the adult Jesus tells us
that what we do to the least among us, we do to him. What are the implications of that when put in
the light of this Sunday’s gospel reading?
Are tax laws that remove 13 million people from health care coverage akin
to Herod seeking to kill the infant Jesus?

These are all valid questions with which people of faith
must wrestle and I invite you into this holy struggle of which I don’t pretend
to have easy answers. There is nothing
simple about this Christmas story. For
it is far more than just an account of a birth, It is the story of God dwelling
with us and our response to that new reality.

Monday, November 27, 2017

I honestly don't know what to say anymore. All I have in response to the mass slaughter of innocents at the Sufi Mosque in Egypt is the following prayer I offered in worship yesterday. I wish I had more. Maybe in the end, prayer is all we have.Heavenly Father,You are the source of life and light. You are our refuge and our strength, a very present help in times of trouble. Amid the turmoil and strife in our world, your love is steadfast and your strength never fails. Be with all victims of violence and bloodshed, especially this day with the victims and families of the horrific attack on the Sufi Mosque in Egypt. Make us quick to reach out in love and healing to these our sisters and brothers, that there may be woven the fabric of a common good too strong to be torn by the evil hands of war. Amen.

Tuesday, November 7, 2017

Another mass shooting has occurred; this time in a church
during worship. 26 people are dead,
ranging in age from 18 months to 77 years.
Oh sure, you and I probably don’t know any of the victims and more than
likely would never have met them. They
lived in a different region of the country and belonged to a denomination much
different from ours. But I can imagine that many of them came to church like
you and me, wondering how long the service would be; hoping the sermon wouldn’t
be too much of a “snoozer”; looking forward to connecting with friends; hoping
they would get home in time to see the opening kickoff of a Sunday afternoon
football game. But that didn’t
happen. This past Sunday morning the
hallowed ground of a church became a killing field and still there can be no
meaningful conversations on guns and those who must not have them.

I’m tired of politicians and their hollow rhetoric of
“thoughts and prayers”. Sorry but that
no longer cuts it. Leave the prayers to
those who lead worship in our churches, synagogues, and mosques. Leave the prayers to those who gather in
those communities or at prayer vigils or who pray as Jesus puts it, “in
secret”. The term “thoughts and
prayers” has become a cliché. “Thoughts
and prayers” are code for: “I lack the courage and conviction to stand up to
special interests who fund my election campaigns.” “Thoughts and prayers” are the priest and the
Levite crossing to the other side of the road when faced with the reality of a
man lying in a ditch, robbed and beaten. (Luke 10:30-32).

Polls show that a vast majority of Americans support the
idea of background checks before guns can be purchased and yet lawmakers
continue to blow smoke by claiming that this is no time to talk about such
things; that to speak of gun control in the face of mass shootings is to
politicize tragedy. The only ones
politicizing tragedy are those whose jobs depend upon funding from special
interest groups intent on selling more guns.

My outrage and tears have little to do with the gun industry
and those who support it. My heart
breaks because each and every victim was fashioned in the image of God and
Jesus told us that what we do to each other, we do to God. My heart breaks because this past Sunday
families were forever scarred and irreparably torn apart. My heart breaks because mass shootings like
this don’t have to happen and yet they do with chilling regularity.

Gun deaths are at epidemic levels, and yet those whom we’ve
entrusted with the responsibility of governing and protecting us are not doing
their jobs, instead they feed us nutrition-less platitudes of “thoughts and
prayers”. They claim to be protecting
our 2nd Amendment Rights to bear arms, all the while neglecting that
uniquely American creed; “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness;” A creed that no longer applies to Sunday’s
victims, as well as those in Las Vegas, Orlando, Washington, Charleston, Newtown
and countless other places where military-grade weapons are readily available
and easily attainable.

Where do we go from here?
Perhaps our Episcopal sisters and brothers can shed some light for us. In response to the epidemic of gun violence,
a group of more than 70 Episcopal Bishops offers the following statement
calling for prayer and action:

In prayer, Christians
commend the souls of the faithful departed to the mercy and love of God. We beseech our Creator to comfort the
grieving and shield the vulnerable.
Prayer is not an offering of vague good wishes…in prayer we examine our
own hearts and our own deeds to determine whether we are complicit in the evils
we deplore. And if we are, we resolve to
take action; we resolve to amend our lives...

As a nation, we must
acknowledge that we idolize gun violence, and we must make amends. Violence of all kinds denigrates humankind;
it stands against the will of God and the way of Jesus the Christ… Each of us
has a role to play in our repentance.
Elected representatives bear the responsibility of passing legislation
that protects our citizenry. If our
representatives are not up to this responsibility, we must replace them… one
does not offer prayers in lieu of demonstrating political courage but rather in
preparation. (Bishops United
Against Gun Violence).